Picture Frame
by LaniLani
Summary: Weekly One-shot challenge. Post-DAG. Sookie was a little bitter about her grandfather Fintan and his supposed love for her, until she realized he had always been with her as an inanimate object. Adele & Fintan's relationship explained here. E/S Lemons.


**A/N:** I'm a newbie. High schools in DR don't assign essays of any kind, and studying architecture only made my chances for writing grow smaller. I started writing this story for Week 7, One Shot Challenge: Inanimate Objects, but the weeks went by and here I am.

I have to thank those who agreed to give me a helping hand, **tvgirl.63 **for reading this and correcting my mistakes_—_ thanks for the encouragement; and **Northwoman** for all her great suggestions and super quick beta skills. I'm so grateful for everyone's support, here in the Sookieverse and on Twitter. Hugs&Kisses.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own SVM. Charlaine Harris has all the rights. Any leftover mistakes are mine.

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**Picture Frame**

Walking the short distance, from the car, to the back door was never going to be stress-free. Every time I got home, it was always the same. Before leaving the safety of my new car, I looked around frantically, reaching out with my mind looking for a threat. I had yet to find someone, except maybe Dean every once in a while, but I just could not relax.

I took my purse from the passenger seat, gripping the small iron key chain tightly with my right hand, stepped out of the car, and made a run for it. Actually, hopped would be a better description since I was still walking with a limp. I grabbed the rail on my porch steps, missed and nearly fell. Once inside, I locked the door behind me and breathed a sigh of relief.

"I made it!" I said, panting. I fell face first on the soft cushions of the sofa— I was annoyingly clumsy these days. I laid there for a while waiting for my heart and lungs to recover from the exertion.

I loosened my hold on the key chain and raised my hand to set the alarm on my car. It was a midnight blue Volvo S 40. Eric had guilted me into it, saying, "Your old Malibu is too unreliable, and I can't have you driving unprotected like that, Lover." He even made a sad, concerned face. He wasn't lying of course; he did feel that way. Except, he mostly thought it was an ugly piece of crap.

His pouty face— which should have concerned me more than his words— was not why he won the argument. Instead, he played on my need not to worry him. He argued, "If you want to go back to work for the shifter, the least you can do is allow me to provide for your safe transportation." When I started to protest again he added, "Compromise is the key to a happy relationship, Sookie." He smiled hugely when he saw the shock on my face, then I had to laugh. "Are you reading Dear Abby too?" I said between giggles. He frowned a little, before he joined in. He was happy to see me smile.

I sighed, sitting up and reaching for the cell phone inside my purse. While at Merlotte's, I had left it on vibrate. I had a voicemail from Eric— a wave of warmth coursed through me— saying that Sandy was in town and had requested a meeting with him. He needed to take care of some paper work in his office and then enthrall the vermin for a while before he could make it to Bon Temps. That was fine with me. I had plans for tonight anyway.

Tonight I was determined to go through my grandmother's things and I hoped to find some clue to her relationship with the half-fairy Fintan.

For days I had been thinking about doing this, but always chickened out. It was stupid because I already knew the outcome of things. An angel-like creature had walked into the yard while Gran hung clothes out in the sun. Her desire for kids was so great that Gran cheated on her human spouse, Mitchell, over enough time to give birth to two children: my father Corbett and my aunt Linda, then my grandmother had mysteriously evaded thinking about any of this for the two decades I had lived with her.

Gran had been dead for over a year when my fairy prince great-grandfather Niall made these facts known to me, so I never got a chance to ask her about it. It had been quite a shock to me then because it didn't match with her character, her deep rooted beliefs. I was more upset at my alleged grandfather Fintan, who did not make an appearance to let me know he cared one little bit about me. I can think of hundreds of occasions where his supernatural presence in my life would have been welcomed. Growing up as a telepath was not easy, especially if you had so little adult support— and a drug-addicted cousin, a _funny uncle_ and orphaned at age of seven.

In a way, now I realized that the worst of what I've survived in the past two years (being Thing One and Thing Two) was indirectly tied to her affair with Fintan. I did not blame her for it, but I wanted to understand. I needed to know.

It had been almost two months since my horrible encounter with Neave and Lochlan. My physical recovery was going pretty well, if you considered how damaged I was. After several mouthfuls of Eric's blood, and the care of Dr. Ludwig that first week, my scars were barely noticeable. After that, the only thing left was to get my strength back. I was really weak, it was difficult to even stand up at first. Thanks to Tara's encouragement and JB's workout routine, I was getting my stamina back.

That's why I was now able to get back to work, but only for a five-hour shift and agreeing to take a fifteen minute break each hour. Sam was not so happy to see me back, he thought I needed more time off, but I disagreed. Felipe de Castro had issued a five figure check to my name for the services rendered in Rhodes, and I had been living on that ever since; it was not for the money, I just needed to get back to my life.

I got up from the couch and up the stairs I went, heading towards the door at the end of the hall which led to the walk-in attic. I rarely came up here, and even less when Amelia was living with me.

The room was filled; to my left was a very neatly organized pile of boxes, to my right was the fake Christmas tree, along with my childhood pink mountain bike, a rusted ladder and, in the corner, the wall was setup with various fishing rods and related things, and some of the old furniture that was in the middle, were covered with white sheets. I assumed that Amelia must have been in here during one of her cleaning frenzies.

I reached the boxes tagged _Gran's_ and started to sort through them. After opening, poking in and closing about six of them, I settled on one that contained books and pictures. _Maybe Gran had a diary_, I thought. I picked it up and made my way to Amelia's old room.

I climbed on the bed, not bothering to turn on the lights since the room was illuminated with the glare of the security lights that were right outside her windows. Inside the box I found a couple of civil war-related books and a few romance novels, two notebooks, one filled with town gossip and the other one with recipes, a heavy photo album and various individual frames.

There was one for each member of my family: Aunt Linda and my dad, age 7-10, dressed in white in front of the church. Gran was holding baby Hadley, with Grandpa Mitchell sitting beside her. My parents stood, each with one arm around Gran, on their wedding day. A sixteen-year-old me, all covered in make-up. Jason was wearing a tuxedo for his high school graduation.

I had been reminiscing about the pictures from my time, and staring in wonderment at the youth of my elders in others, until I came across one frame that held the picture of a man I did not know. He was very gorgeous, with a winsome smile; his dark brown hair contrasting with his bright blue eyes. I didn't know this from the picture since it was a grainy black and white one. I had an odd feeling, as if I knew this man. How else could I have known this?

I didn't remember ever seeing this face before, yet the feeling of familiarity only grew the more I looked at the picture. I felt a tickling in the back of my mind, a warning. There was magic working around me, but I could not take my eyes off him. In essence, he was what I envisioned my little cousin Hunter might look like in twenty years, albeit the eye color, so we must be related somehow.

The warning grew louder, someone was reaching for me from inside my mind. Not just anyone, but the lovely man— there he stood, holding his left hand out to me. Was I dreaming? I had my eyes wide open, but Ame's room was blurry, unfocused. The vision looked much more real than anything else.

"What is going on?" I said aloud, warily. I looked, untrusting, into his eyes that reflected kindness instead of malice, and then at his still waiting hand. He was inviting me to join him, but where? The image in my head shifted, revealing a rocky path under him, a forest around us. "_Come, I have things to show you,_" a voice whispered in my head. He had not moved his lips, but I knew it was the lovely creature in front of me.

I tried to read his mind, though I didn't need to since he was already in _my _head, and discovered his thoughts were a blank wall. This led me to believe he was a fairy, but not entirely so_—_ I caught a few emotions, pride and...love? Well, whatever the reason, at least I was sure he wasn't set on either killing or torturing me; the latter being the worst in my book.

When I reached for his hand, the beautiful smile that played across his face was the last thing I saw before a white light blinded me.

xxx

I opened my eyes to slits, reflexively covering them from the glare with my one free arm. The blinding light was coming from the beautiful man whose hands I could now _feel_ clasped in mine. Slowly the light dimmed from his form so that the only thing glowing now were his eyes; they shone the clearest blue— _like the cloudless sky_, I thought.

"Sweetheart, look at you, you are not my little girl anymore," he said in a melodic voice while looking me up and down, and oddly, not in a lustful way. I felt awkward, so I beamed my _Crazy Sookie_ smile. What was he talking about?

"Okay," I said slowly, "who are you?" I tore my eyes from his face and saw he was wearing a somewhat long tunic and loose pants tucked into boots; I'd seen Niall in similar clothes, but they looked better on the stranger— hey, no blood.

Suddenly, I caught up with my subconscious and made the connection, my eyes wide, so shocked I almost missed the confirmation. "I'm Fintan, your grandfather," and just like Niall had done on our first meeting, he too showed me his slightly pointed ears.

"Oh," I said stupidly, my mouth still hanging open. I tried to compose myself, but my mind was not processing this, there was something very wrong... "but you are dead?!" Yes, that was it.

"My body has crumpled to dust, yes, but my spirit still lingers in the Summerlands, child," he said gently. I shuddered at the picture forming in my head— the fairy hit-man Murray turning into glittering dust all over my yard— but if he was right, then Claudine was okay too. I brightened at the idea and before I knew it, I blurted out "Is Claudine with you?"

He hesitated, "There are things I'm not allowed to talk about, Sookie" he said in a no-nonsense tone, before giving me a sly smile and a wink. I took that as yes, and I smiled back; it felt so good to know she was all right, even if I couldn't reach her.

"Why are you here?" I asked, looking down to notice that he has not let go of my hand, but it was not uncomfortable; it felt...natural, as if this was a habit. _Strange, _I thought.

"I'm here because you called to me." I must have looked just as confused as I felt because he continued, "The picture frame, I cast a spell on it. It was the only way I had to watch over you, child." _He watched me?_ I felt warmth in my heart hearing that. I wanted him to explain, but he did not seem inclined to do so, and the feeling went away, replaced by bitterness.

"So, my curiosity about you triggered the magic on the frame, huh? Awesome." I didn't even try to hide the tone of sarcasm in my voice. "Where are we exactly?" I sulked, waving a hand at the forest around us.

He smiled again at this, and he was emanating so much love and longing that it almost knocked me off my feet. He sure liked this place, it was truly beautiful, but that wasn't it. I didn't understand why this would make him feel like a love-crazed-teenager Before answering, he led us to a wooden bench on the side of the rocky path, 20 feet away from where we stood, and motioned for us to sit.

"We're inside your mind, Sookie," he met my blank look, he said, "but this place is one of _my_ memories. Adele loved it here, so I would bring her here usually. There used to be a bed there where we would—" _Oh, gack!_ I cut him off, I sure didn't want to hear this. He merely chuckled at my reaction, the one he aimed for.

I stood up to tower over him, "Why am _I _here?!" I asked, irritated. Maybe I should have made a list of _'Things I would ask Fintan, in case he comes back from the dead,' _because I felt so unprepared, I was wasting time.

"Yes," he said, "I cannot stay long and there are things I want to show you." I stared at him, wide-eyed. Did he just read my mind? _"Of course I did, I'm in it, remember?"_ he thought at me. "_Right",_ I thought back.

"Look," he said aloud, pointing to a clearing in the woods where the air started to shimmer, before revealing a beautiful woman, who must have been my grandmother Adele, looking nervously at her reflection on a pocket-size mirror. She was wearing a typical 1950s dress made from cotton check fabric and a self fabric matching wide belt. She inhaled a few deep breaths, and then simply ran into the woods; almost instantly, a pair of arms held her in a tight embrace, sweeping her off her feet, swirling around. Gran looked so happy, and loved, I don't think I had ever seen her quite like this. Their laughter still echoed in my ears even after they vanished in the air.

"You know, what I don't understand is," I said, sitting down again, "How come Gran never thought about you? It's like she had been glamoured to forget." He gazed at me in deep thought, and I got the distinct impression that he was measuring me, how I would take whatever news he would share, and something flashed in my head. A woman, light copper brown hair with choppy bangs, bringing out her pale green eyes; her beauty was radiant, exquisite.

"Oh my God!" I gasped, however Gran and Fintan had separated I was certain this person, actually fairy, was the catalyst. I was suddenly enraged, "You—" _what?_ I stopped myself, because saying 'you cheated on her' sounded unfair, since Gran was the unfaithful wife. Fintan grimaced, and I face-palmed myself.

"Right, so you heard all that. What then?" I asked exasperated, scooting as far as I could in the bench, my torso turned to face him.

"It was not like that, my relationship with Eilín had ended a century before I met Adele." He said grimly, and I flinched a bit, feeling oddly scolded. He continued, "You want to know why Adele chose to erase me from her memories, for that you need to know about Eilín as well." He looked at me expectantly, and I guessed he wanted my approval or something, so I nodded and relaxed my tense shoulders.

"Eilín was my first crush," he winked at me, in a better mood I would have rolled my eyes, "and Dermot's too." He said this in a harsh voice, and my eyes opened wide. "Unlike the majority, if not all Fae world, she came from a family that did not despised humans; she did not treat us with disdain. As kids, she was our only true friend, not guards or subjects of our father forced to respect us; she didn't cared for us out of fear, but love." A pause, "At first anyway." He scowled at that last part.

"What changed?" I asked truly curious now, I had even began to like her— eye roll here— I guess I set myself for disappointment.

"After a human's lifetime of friendship, she left to another world," I remembered Claudine talking about 'the three worlds', and I only knew two, our world and the Fae's, which one was the third? When I asked he simply shook his head, more secrets I thought, what was the point? He was dead anyway. I mentally rebuked myself for my rudeness, Gran would have yanked me by the ears for this.

Thankfully, Fintan laughed and said, "Would you mind if I continue?" I nodded, embarrassed. Note to self: Stop the mental-wandering.

"She came back almost four centuries later, I was eager to see her, to," he looked down, shy? He said, "to be accepted that it took me forever to see how she had changed, that her 'love' for me was nothing more than desire for power. When I realized this, I left her, and she did not take that well. She was ridiculed, which was not my intention; not even good enough for a half, they'd said."

"Why didn't she go to Dermot then, if becoming a member of the 'royal family' was her goal." I interrupted, "and like you said, Dermot liked her too." _They made quite a match_, I thought.

"Well, Dermot could have been an option, except he was not in favors with Niall; I couldn't tell you why Dermot acted the way he did, mm, does, and I had spent so much of my time trying to understand." I caught a flicker of anger that was quickly replaced with sadness.

"A few years after the births of Corbett and Linda, Adele distanced herself from me. She had risked so much to conceive our children, she had wanted them badly; for her, life without kids had no meaning, she dreamed about it as a child. She was married, and she wouldn't consider the alternative, divorce, the many times I suggested, so there was no place for me in her life.

"She loved me, I knew this, I felt it, so I kept coming back from time to time, both for her and for my children. I wanted to provide for them, but she was a stubborn woman," he looked at me sideways with a quirked eyebrow, at which I scowled, and continued, "plus Mitchell was not entirely oblivious that they were not his, but he took pride taking care of them as his own; Adele didn't want to take that away from him, the guilt never left her."

He took a deep, though shaky, breath and he ranted angrily, "After all that time, Eilín was still obsessed with me, she was stalking me, I would always take precautions before coming here, but that day I was so eager to see Adele that I didn't notice her following me. She was enraged, 'offended' that I would choose a human, an aged human over her— that did not matter to me.

"She was not a total, hmm, what would you say..." He narrowed his eyes in concentration, and I felt him rummaging through my head; it didn't hurt, but I was more than a little freaked out.

"What are you doing? Stop it!" I yelled, he looked unperturbed.

"Ah— he said; like I was saying, she was not a total _'psyco', _which only means killing Adele was not option she would consider, instead she threatened to harm our kids, she wanted to scare her enough to leave me, and it worked. Adele went through so much to get them, and there was nothing she wouldn't do to keep them safe; she had witness how much stronger than I Eilín was, she knew I could not protect her like I said I would. She ordered me to stay away for good, and I complied.

"I realized then the danger they were in just by being part fairy, and more by staying close, leaving a trail. That's when I put the spell on the picture frame, so that I could stay close inadvertently; so that we could still be together in her mind, even after she decided to forget all about me. She was constantly afraid, it was affecting her health, and neither condition would help her take care of Corbett and Linda, Mitchell or herself." he finished in a huff.

I took a moment to relax after this, resting my back on the bench to gaze up at the sky. The sun was right above, peeking through the tangled branches of the trees. I was trying to give him some space, I felt him collect his thoughts, preparing for something; there was more, something much worst than the end of their relationship.

"What happened to Eilín?" I prompted, unable to restrain myself.

"She disappeared." He was staring up just as I was before, but with his eyes closed. A tear oozed from the corner of his eye. "I looked for her everywhere, but she was nowhere to be found. When the time passed and she did not come after me knowing that she had leverage over me, or after Adele to torment her some more, it worried me.

"It was around this time that Dermot allied himself with Breandan— how he justified that to himself is beyond me." His hands balled up into fists and raised them to his face, where he visibly struggle with his rage, yanking slightly at his hair. My heart was racing, _What happened?_, I thought slowly too scared to speak.

"He took her! Dermot took her to them!" He bellowed. I saw who he meant by _them_, but he quickly shut his mind to me so I wouldn't register his own death. Neave and Lochlan. I shuddered violently, remembering, before I shook my head; I would not allow their memory to faze me now that they were dead, they had done more than enough while alive.

When I looked up, I saw his hands were shaking faintly, "I never asked for Niall's help, I wanted to keep him and his enemies away, I feared for the Stackhouse's fate if their existence was ever discovered... but it was too late anyway" he said and I cried as I heard the rest from his mind.

That was how Breandan's people found out about us, Dermot had led them to my father, in who's death, along my mother's, he had participated. Fintan blamed himself for everything, he thought himself responsible for the fate of all of us, for Eilín's, for my parents', for Gran's, and for mine... all he ever wanted was love, but he found death instead.

I took his hand again and squeezed it in a comforting gesture, he looked up at me and, just as mine, his eyes were filled with tears. He suffered their demise, he loved them; his family..._our_ family.

We didn't speak for a while, then he sighed and stood, arms spread wide, and I went up to him, curious— looks like I didn't inherit my petite physique from the Brigant's side. He wrapped me in his arms and, after a second or two, I held him back. This was nice, effortless, unlike my relationship with Niall, this seemed familiar. The feeling that this was an old habit sparked again. _Odd_, I thought.

He put his hands on my shoulders and said, "This is why I came here, Sookie, to restore your memories." _Huh?_ Was all I said, not comprehending, he ignored it and went on, "Unfortunately, it's time for me to go, so I will only be able to show you one myself, the rest will come up on its own." With that, he leaned down to kiss my forehead, I felt dizzy for a second, and then the air around us shimmered. I blinked furiously into the light, and when I opened my eyes, everything had changed.

xxx

We were in the room upstairs, and yet we weren't. It felt like only my senses reached, while my body was elsewhere, out of view. I was puzzled— this was the attic, but it was not as cramped as it had looked earlier tonight; there was not enough furniture or boxes and everything in the room was laid out differently.

Suddenly, a little girl burst through the doors, I only had a second or two to see her pretty, tear-streaked face before she turned to sit in a corner facing the wall. She was sobbing, apparently very scared. I wanted to hug her to me, but I couldn't; when I tried, my hands would go right through her, I felt like a ghost.

From her size, I think she was maybe seven years old, with shoulder length blond hair. She put her tiny hands on top of her ears and started rocking herself a little, chanting in a very low voice between sobs, "Make it stop...please...go away...I don't want to hear."

I was startled by this since I couldn't hear anything— there was no one else in here— I reached out with my mind. I sucked in a sharp breath, my eyes widening in horror. I was her! This little girl was a younger me! The thoughts I could pick up from her, were not hers at all, they were just an echo of Uncle Bartlett's thoughts, who was downstairs roaming the house looking for me; his mind playing everything he wanted to do with me, with my tiny body, as if it were a movie in my mind.

Invisible tears filled up my eyes, turning away from the scene in from of me. I couldn't bear this, I felt her fear coursing through my veins, like my own; we were simply one. What am I doing here? Fintan patted me on the back, pointing at 'little me.' "Watch," he said softly.

When I looked back at her, she was sitting cross-legged still in the corner, but now with her back to the wall. In her hands was an ornately gold frame, just like the one I had held last. Sure enough, she turned it slightly to look at the back, and I caught a glimpse of the gorgeous man that was floating next to me; she had stopped crying while staring at it. After a minute, her eyes got heavy and her lips made a small 'o' before she seemed to fall asleep. The picture frame glowed, covering her with its light, just as I felt the tickling in my head: magic. It continued to shine brightly for a while, until it disappeared from her hands, but not before a wave of love and safety covered me; my guess is that was how she felt right now.

I watched my younger self wake up with a sweet smile on her face. She had dreamed of a magical forest, with huge trees, which crowns looked like they touched the sky; they were far enough apart from one another, to let her feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, and the ground was covered with many wild flowers and weeds that reached her knees. She had not been alone there, but she could not remember who had been with her.

She did not, but I did. Just before Fintan was erased from her thoughts, I had seen him with her, with me. We were walking down the path, he was talking to me, comforting me the only way he could. He played with me in the meadow, long enough for me to forget about Uncle Bartlett's dirty thoughts, and be a happy little kid again.

The seven year old me, stood up and stretched, as if she had been there for hours rather than ten minutes tops, and headed downstairs to meet Gran who, I could see from her thoughts, had just returned from the grocery store.

_Restore my memories_, he had said. This was a memory to which I did not have access until tonight, twenty years later. Were there more occasions like this? He said there were. At this point pining after why he never played Scrabble with me, sent me a graduation present, rented a limousine for me to go to the prom, or bought me a pretty dress, all seemed petty.

I turned around hurriedly, fearing he might have left already, but he was here still, and I gave him a bear hug, hiding my face in his chest. I sobbed, ashamed to have ever thought he did not care about me, so happy to know the truth. How unfair that this happens now, when he is already long gone. _He can hear you Sook_, I thought.

"I'm sorry." I said, looking up at him and smiled through my tears. He smiled back and said, "I will not be far, sleep well, child." With that his form began to blur until he vanished completely.

Okay. I was still in the attic, but this was clearly not _my_ home. I ventured out of the room, walking on my tiptoes, I could hear Gran humming a cheerful tune in front of the oven. I missed her so much that I barely noticed when my feet starting moving; down the stairs and into the kitchen I went, but Gran was nowhere to be seen. I could still hear her voice, but this time from outside. I went over the sink to peer out the window, she was there picking up clothes, with me running in circles until I fell dizzily to the ground, grinning all the while.

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands, my vision was getting blurry, I wanted to see Gran some more. I walked to the back door very slowly, my legs were heavy, I put all my strength into it, but I still could not reach it, no matter how hard I tried. I heard a voice calling me very far away and I stopped to listen, "_Sookie, wake up!"_ it said. It came from the front yard and suddenly my legs were light again as I made my way to the front door. _This was just like a dream_, I thought. I pinched my arm to prove it, and sure enough, no pain hit me. _Definitely dreaming._

When I stepped into the living room I began to shake while the voice became clearer, with a strange husky undertone: _Wake up, Sookie, Wake up! _Someone shook me slightly, I could _feel_ phantom hands on my shoulders, not anyone's but Eric's, their weight was too familiar— also, the bond let me know he was close and very, _very_ aroused. I closed my eyes as the wave of lust he was emanating coursed through me, drowning in it. I shook my head trying to focus, I needed out of here, but when I open my eyes I found myself laying down on the sofa.

My vision was still foggy so I wasn't awake yet. I felt Eric sniff my hand letting out a deep moan— I squirmed a bit, my hands probably still smelled of burgers and beers; whatever it was, he sure loved it. I wanted to pull him to me, feel his weight on me, but I could not; I closed my eyes in concentration, thinking hard, trying to wake myself up.

"O-oh Lover," he whispered in my ear, his voice unsteady, "Delicious." I was fully dressed, but that didn't stop me from sensing Eric's tongue attacking my stomach, my breasts with forceful strokes; I was trembling. _Oh please, please, _I said to myself drawing out the words_, please let me wake up! _A pair of hands squeezed both my upper thighs, brushed their way up to me; I clenched my fists, a moan escaping my lips, and opened my eyes, finally waking up.

xxx

I was looking into the most beautiful pair of eyes. They were bright blue, but at this moment they were smoldering, gazing down at me with such intensity that our surroundings escaped my notice— we could have been anywhere.

I brought my hands up to cup his face, brushing his cheeks lovingly, he turned slightly to kiss one of them. I continued my way up to lace my fingers with his golden hair, massaging the back of his skull, down his neck, kneading his shoulders and back just as far as my hands could reach before I met his lips as I leaned over him. He moaned deep in my throat, thrusting his tongue into my mouth with abandon.

All the daydreaming from earlier made me yearn for him. I tried to reach for him, but he stopped me, taking my wrists and pinning them over my head. I looked at him pleadingly, trying to overwhelm him with need via the bond, but he only smiled at me wickedly, enjoying the view of my puffed up chest, which was on display— he must have taken my T-shirt off or ripped it.

He started nibbling the crook of my neck , behind my ears, my eyelids, sucking my lower lip, down my jaw, making his way to my breast, my breath sped up, all the while he pressed his hard on rhythmically against me. I was moaning and whimpering under him.

I wanted him now, but he wasn't looking so composed himself, desire was winning over, I could feel it in him, in us, hear it in his unnecessary ragged breathing, and I smiled in anticipation.

He let go of my wrists and his hands started roaming my body leaving fire along the way, I felt tingly all the way to my toes. "Eric" I gasped, and that was all that was needed for him to rip my black slacks to shreds, my underwear followed more gently. I pulled at his belt unsuccessfully, and he chuckled at the look of exasperation on my face while taking his pants off in one swift movement.

He probed me with his tongue roughly, but I was more than ready so I grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him to me, saying, "Now!" He was thrusting into me before the word left my mouth, drawing it out with my cry of pleasure. He grunted with each stroke while I thrashed uncontrollably under him, shaking my head from side to side.

His hands on the back of my head, he lifted my face to him to stare intently into my eyes and, though I thought it impossible, his thrusts became more forceful. He tilted my face and exposed my neck— I waited eagerly to feel his fangs bite me. He knew this, so he hesitated until I impatiently peeked sideways at him, he smiled before plunging into me one more time both up and down my body. I cried out, quivering with pleasure. He leisurely licked my wounds still moving inside me until I relaxed completely and he collapsed on top of me, I welcomed his weight.

We laid there, unmoving, I was a little drowsy, but I was not going to fall asleep again, I was getting up. Eric must have felt my determination because he looked up at me curiously, supporting his weight with his hands around me.

This was very disorienting, I was not in the living room at all, I was back upstairs in Amelia's room, with everything I had taken out of Gran's box scattered around us, most of it on the floor, but nowhere in sight was what I was looking for, _Where was Fintan's picture? _I sat up so abruptly that if Eric didn't have amazing reflexes, we would have bumped heads.

"What's wrong, Sookie?" Eric said. I didn't answer him while I stepped around the many books and pictures, until I found Fintan's picture in the far corner of the room, its glass had broken. I went back to the bed with it in my hands, trying to take it out of the frame, and Eric sat behind me, pressed against me with his legs on my sides.

"Sookie, I've tried to wake you for almost 20 minutes before you came around. This room reeks of magic, especially _that picture_ you're holding," he said, eyeing the frame warily. He leaned closer to stare at it with his nose to my neck, and asked, "Who's that, and, why do you smell so intoxicating tonight, Lover?"

My brows furrowed and I turned to look at him, "What do I smell like besides beer mugs and ketchup?"

He gave me a dubious look before saying slowly, "Sookie, you know I can smell you've been with a fairy. Your jumble of emotions got me out of Fangtasia, I knew you weren't in danger, you were never truly afraid or hurt, but I was still worried". At that he frowned slightly before smoothing his expression. _Thinking about you is an annoying habit, and one I want to be rid of, _he'd once said to me; I was tired of second guessing him, so I brushed the thoughts away and focused on what he said.

"Huh, that's weird since he was not actually here," I said a bit to myself_, _"does the room have fairy scent, or is it just me?"

"Just you," he responded, "where are you going with this?"

"Oh nothing, there's nothing to worry about, Eric. I was actually with, family." He didn't like this one little bit, his anger filled me.

"You smell of fairy, maybe half. Was it Dermot?" I shook my head, rubbing his thighs soothingly, trying to calm him. It worked a bit.

"Then who? The portals are sealed, and to my knowledge he's the only one half fairy left wandering the Earth." I shook my head absently, I had taken the picture out of the frame and read the back, _Fintan, my angel,_ it read. I turned my head to whisper in his ears, pointing at the picture in my hand.

"I just met my grandfather Fintan." He looked at it and then back at me, checking if I was serious, though of course he already knew I was not joking through the bond.

I felt the skepticism behind his poker-face, before saying, "Sookie, he's dead." I sighed dramatically and started telling him about my little trip down memory lane.

_Well_, I thought, _I had wanted answers— I got them._

— Fin —

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**Thanks for reading!** Please leave a review and tell me what you think and how I can improve. Lani.—

**[Note]** EILÍN: Variant spelling of Irish Gaelic Éibhlín, meaning "beauty, radiance." Also I just found out my nick has a meaning, LANI: Hawaiian name meaning "heaven, sky." =^.^= And a hug for **howyoudsdoin**, who helped me with the name choice.


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